There is a dark legend linked to Jusepe de Ribera. In 1621 his contemporary Giulio Mancini already saw him as a ”follower” by Caravaggio “darker and fiercer”. Over the centuries, the image of an artist who delighted in scenes of martyrdom and “horrible and raw things like the bodies of old people” (sic), continued to be passed off by critics, until Théophile Gautier’s farewell “a fury of the brush, a ferocity of the touch, an intoxication of blood of which we have no idea”. In 1987, the very serious Larousse of painting still described the painter as“implacable inquisitor of human deformities”. Is it time to revisit this ruling?
A world first
Discovering the retrospective “Jusepe de Ribera” at the Petit Palais in Paris, a completely different feeling emerges: the artist’s profound empathy for his most humble or vulnerable human brothers. Ardently conceived by Annick Lemoine, director of the Petit Palais, this exhibition is the first to bring together these brilliant beginnings with the dazzling developments of the painter’s career in Naples, from 1616 until his death in 1652. However, this panoramic vision changes our perception of the work, revealing the audacity and genius of an ever-evolving artist, but also his contagious sensitivity.
Look at this beggar, holding out his cap in the first room, with his eyes modestly lowered! By painting this man dressed in rags, who emerges from the shadows, with his face and hands caressed by a ray of light, the young Ribera demonstrates that he has assimilated the lesson of Caravaggio whose patrons he will seduce (Cardinal Scipione Borghese purchased this canvas). In reality he is the first in Rome to dare to paint such a portrait of beggars, on a large format. Did he remember his humble origins, the son of a shoemaker?
His gaze full of compassion can be found, twenty years later, in a splendid painting, commissioned by the Viceroy of Naples: the portrait of Maddalena Ventura, known as The bearded woman. Depicted full-length, while breastfeeding her baby, she stares at us with a dignity that seems to discourage all sneers in advance. The clubfoot the du Louvre does nothing else, parading against a backdrop of blue sky, with a crutch on his shoulder, and smiling at us despite his handicap! An “inclusive” painter ante litteram, Ribera here invites the viewer to charity, faithful to the message of the Counter-Reformation.
Drawings of tortured people
Sometimes uncertain at first, his compositions with multiple characters gradually become clearer in friezes or powerful diagonals, the eloquence of gestures is exacerbated. Far from any idealization, the Spaniard draws on real models, like this old toothless slave that we recognize here Philosopherthere as Christ’s executioner, elsewhere in Saint Bartholomew. Ribera loves worn-out bodies that he elevates to the dignity of ancient sages or apostles. With presumed realism, he paints Saint Jerome with flaccid and wrinkled flesh, symbol of human finiteness awakened by the promise of Salvation, in the guise of an angel with a trumpet. Sometimes signing a skull, the artist inserts himself into these meditations…
Irresistible concentrations of tears and sweetness, three Pietas, with Christ radiating against a background of darkness, reflect, at the center of the exhibition, the absolute mastery of the Neapolitan years. Other scenes of martyrdom will follow, with marbled colors borrowed from Venetian art and almost mannerist contortions. A series of very crude drawings shows how Ribera was inspired by the executions and torture, exhibited at the time in public places by the Spanish power and the Inquisition that reigned over Naples. Upon his arrival in this city, the artist would not have hesitated to paint it Saint Bartholomewon the arm already flayed by the executioner and hung it near the royal palace during a party, enjoying public success and the purchase of the painting by the viceroy.
His brushwork, however, seems less bloody than that of Caravaggio, for example, in David holding Goliath’s head, whose (severed) neck is veiled in shadow. Above all, Ribera seems to constantly invoke our pity, like this dog who is about to lick the hand of his dying master, the handsome Adonis. Brilliant is the final rotunda which brings together five spectacular martyrs, some of whom seem to literally fall off the canvas. As if the painter was preparing to gather them in his arms.
“Ribera, darkness and light”exhibition included The Cross is a partner, is held at the Petit Palais until 23 February 2025. Catalog under the direction of. by Annick Lemoine and Maïté Metz, ed. Paris Musées (304 pages, €49).
Time.news Interview: Revisiting Jusepe de Ribera with Art Historian Dr. Elena Martinez
Time.news Editor: Welcome, Dr. Martinez! Today, we’re delving into the fascinating world of Jusepe de Ribera, an artist often shrouded in misconceptions. The recent retrospective at the Petit Palais is redefining our understanding of his work. What was your initial takeaway from this exhibition?
Dr. Elena Martinez: Thank you for having me! The exhibition truly offers a fresh perspective on Ribera. Many have pigeonholed him as a purely morose artist obsessed with martyrdom and grotesque subjects. However, this retrospective highlights his profound empathy and ability to portray the human condition with remarkable sensitivity. It invites viewers to recognize the nuances in his work that demonstrate a genuine compassion for the marginalized and vulnerable.
Editor: That’s an important distinction. In the past, critics painted Ribera as a “follower” of Caravaggio, focusing on the darker aspects of his art. How does the exhibition counter that narrative?
Martinez: The narrative surrounding Ribera has been overly simplistic. While it’s true he was inspired by Caravaggio—especially with the use of light and shadow—this exhibition emphasizes his evolution as an artist. For example, the portrait of the beggar holding out his cap illustrates Ribera’s willingness to confront society’s discomfort with poverty. It reflects not just the influence of Caravaggio, but a stylistic evolution towards human dignity.
Editor: You mentioned the portrait of Maddalena Ventura, the “bearded woman.” This piece seems quite significant. Can you elaborate on its importance within Ribera’s body of work?
Martinez: Certainly! Maddalena Ventura is a remarkable study in dignity and resilience. The way Ribera captures her gaze invites the viewer into a dialogue about compassion and inclusion. In an era when physical differences were often met with disdain, Ribera challenges societal prejudices. This painting serves as an early example of an “inclusive” perspective in art, urging viewers to recognize humanity beyond superficial judgments.
Editor: It’s intriguing how he combines realism with a deep sense of empathy. The retrospective also showcases Ribera’s evolving compositional techniques over his career. How did these changes reflect his artistic growth?
Martinez: Ribera’s compositions indeed evolved significantly. Early on, he experimented with complex multi-character arrangements, which may seem chaotic at first glance. However, as he matured, he mastered the use of friezes and powerful diagonals that convey emotional intensity. His subjects become more streamlined and focused. This shift not only demonstrates his technical abilities but also reveals his growing understanding of how to communicate complex human emotions effectively.
Editor: One of the striking elements of the exhibition is Ribera’s depictions of suffering and martyrdom. Can you talk about how he used these themes?
Martinez: Ribera’s portrayal of suffering isn’t gratuitous; it’s deeply philosophical. He often illustrated figures like Saint Jerome or Saint Bartholomew, opting for realistic depictions rather than idealized portrayals. This approach elevates the subjects, celebrating their humanity in moments of vulnerability. By exposing their physical imperfections, Ribera invites viewers to reflect on their own mortality and the notion of salvation.
Editor: Lastly, what do you think is the lasting impact of this exhibition on the perception of Ribera’s legacy in art history?
Martinez: The exhibition undoubtedly reshapes Ribera’s legacy. It invites scholars and viewers alike to reconsider the artist’s role not just as a “dark” painter, but as a compassionate observer of human existence. By showcasing his empathy and artistic evolution, it encourages a more nuanced understanding of his contributions to Baroque art. I believe it will lead to an increased appreciation for Ribera’s ability to elevate marginalized voices in his work, challenging us to see beyond surface-level interpretations.
Editor: Thank you, Dr. Martinez. Your insights shed light on how we can appreciate Ribera not just as a master of darkness but as a beacon of compassion in art. This exhibition is a must-see!
Martinez: Thank you for the opportunity to discuss this transformative exhibition! I hope it inspires many to explore Ribera’s work with fresh eyes.